Another Stray Poet’s Newsletter

From My Life as A River — Doug Evans — August 11, 2022

While melting beneath the scorching airs of another over-heated and record-breaking summer, my mind began to focus more upon the subject of water. Or the lack thereof. And as many of you know—I have amassed a bunch of words on such a subject. This first one may not initially mean what you think it means, and the second one may posses a deeper theme.

Infinite Tears

after a cry of ashen tears
I plunge into reflections
on my exhausted back—
ripples of time phase
into dribbles of glow
I liquify beyond
sunken mists of night
drinking it all in
luminescent cocktails
of stars and plankton
the reminiscence
of my faint origins
inside nebulas of light

electrified in trembling
voltages of the night
I roll myself over
to gaze into your eyes
smoldering as
lanterns of fireflies
hanging in lonesome
drafts of northern sky
breathing deep secrets
of each other’s emotion
we cuddle in forgiving
webs of revenant passion
sharing waters of life

bathing in this radiance
of our pouring lives
snared in your touch
I dance in circles
of eternal rolling waves
wrapped in soft moonlight
I reluctantly await
another tender farewell
in a warming rise
that fully absorbs me
to lift my cool vapors
into another fall of tears
upon your midnight grace

Water and Us

I spent my life managing water
over forty long years
only to realize it manages us
every well I drilled
river diversions cut
springs exploited
tunnels driven
pipelines buried
tanks constructed
treatment plants erected
and water rights filed
are simply fixed numbers
in computer models
wasting away imaginary time
in digital clouds of ignorance
water laughs in our faces
as a changing climate
deploys swelling energy
to buy futures of uncertainty
aquifers keep dropping
as emerald lands sink
rivers grip thinning flows
as dammed reservoirs shrivel
and starving shores desiccate
life into tears of sad vapor

it is not like it once was
flowing in generosity
but this I do understand—
water seems to flow into money
sadly—money can buy
some of us—some way
out of a changing climate
but only if we live
in just the right place
and with the proper means
but what about all the others—
dependent on its salvation
who may live in poverty
or lurching waves of uncertainty
starved for sustaining light
shrouded in the turbid shadows
of our arrogance and pride
and what will become our debt
to relieve their dearth
over shrinking aquifers
snubbed by an anxious planet
and how will any of them
discover the living waters
when they cannot afford
clean water for their living
in the end—we will understand
we cannot drink money

Our Falls

in all its power, majesty
patience, endurance
glory, life cradling force
and divine potential
water always displays
its grandest spectrum
of kinetic color and beauty
in rare but delicate moments
of pure vulnerability—
while it falls

My Albion Basin Paradise

High in the towering sanctitude of the Wasatch Mountains, overlooking my innocent childhood home, lies a hallowed cirque of life known as Albion Basin. This vast protected space is adorned with boundless swathes of rolling wildflowers in late spring and early summer. A spectacle defying any possibility of my poetic description. After walking through its eye-watering grip and consecrated scent of high-altitude blessedness, I come to fathom our delicate domicile. Our natural reality. We are all wildflowers in similar vibrant mountain meadows of infinite green. Each grows in different varieties, shapes, fragrances, and colors. Each with unique ideas, paths, passions, minds, and sorrows. These differences form a sacred hymn or fabric that offers the whole scene or setting its perfect purpose, beauty, and repose. Even its sheer southern overseer, a blank monolithic massif known as Devils Castle, relinquishes its power to such multi-colored grandeur. All this unique distinction comes from a remarkable splendor only found within its assorted community of color located upon its perch of a harsh alpine environment. We should understand that this accumulated diversity within all of us, whether physical, intellectual, or spiritual—builds a global and dependable foundation for a sense of enduring peace and perpetual joy.